


Auriga

by Sophisticated_Adult



Series: We Mapped The Stars [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, M/M, Roddy: not quite a master of How To People, but he's super young here so give him time, dorks being tentative bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4552479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophisticated_Adult/pseuds/Sophisticated_Adult
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hot Rod is pretty sure that he's screwed up everything forever and it's all his fault.</p>
<p>Pretty sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Auriga

It wasn’t that they didn’t get along. They shared a frametype, after all, and if anyone was going to understand Blurr then surely it was going to be a fellow racer. (Admittedly he hadn’t asked Arcee what she thought about him, but that wasn’t the point).  
  
Hot Rod just thought that Blurr was _really cool_.  
  
Then again, Hot Rod thought pretty much everyone that he even remotely liked was really cool, but Blurr was the focus right now.  
  
Because Roddy was petrified that he’d slagged everything up.  
  
(Arcee gave up on the swearing thing about two days after they’d settled into the group, but he at least took care around her because she’d taught him better than that).  
  
He knew he was, quote, ‘an annoying little slagger’ (Springer’s words) but he didn’t realise how or when he’d gone over the line until Blurr had snapped at him to get out.  
  
And now Roddy was on tenterhooks because _oh Primus I’ve ruined everything and he hates me forever._  
  
There wasn’t really anyone else he could speak to about it, either. Kup had taken Arcee scouting, Springer was on guard duty, and Ultra Magnus was a) not the Commander you went to seeking personal relationship advice and b) currently getting some much-deserved recharge. Even if Roddy’d wanted to ask him, he wasn’t selfish enough to wake the near-constantly exhausted mech to do so.  
  
He and Blurr and Magnus were all off-shift, left to their own devices to either try and recharge (Magnus) or just do whatever (Blurr and Roddy). He’d chosen to try and get to know his fellow speedster better, but Blurr was downright unresponsive at best and Roddy was not used to being ignored, so he’d kept asking different questions until he hit on one Blurr wanted to answer.  
  
It hadn’t gone well.  
  
He gnawed at his fingers (come on, ‘Cee, this time it was an anxiety thing and not a hunger thing, totally different) fretting about what to do.  
  
He’d messed up so bad and Blurr would never speak to him again and it was the worst feeling in the world.  
  
Roddy jumped at the still unfamiliar feeling of a ping from someone other than Arcee. Seeing that it was from Blurr did nothing to help his pulsing, fluctuating spark.  
  
_\- come back -_ was all it said.  
  
There were no possible ways to interpret that other than the obvious.  
  
Hot Rod swallowed - it seemed appropriate even if it didn’t really do anything - and trotted the short distance back to the small room Blurr had taken when they’d found this place.  
  
“Er, hi?” he said, by way of knocking, because doors weren’t really a thing in Cybertron’s underground tunnels and burned-out cities. He peeked his head in cautiously. Blurr had moved from the far corner, where Roddy had fled from him, to sprawl out in the centre of the room.  
  
His inbox pinged again.  
  
_\- I can’t -_  
  
_\- I’ll sound so dumb if I try to say it out loud -_  
  
_\- I’m sorry I yelled at you -_  
  
_\- I can’t -_  
  
The messages arrived in rapid succession, way faster than Roddy could ever manage, but now there was a big pause.  
  
“Are you OK?” Hot Rod asked, a different kind of worry washing over him. He must have been keeping it in somehow before, but now Blurr was radiating heat. Blasting it. Roddy’s cooling fans clicked on as he took a step into the small, dim room.  
  
He knew Blurr was - well, he didn’t like to say the word, but - glitched, but at the time Magnus explained it to him he’d been pretending to not be staring at Springer’s back as the green mech was cleaning and checking their guns were in good repair (because _triple-changer_ and _so cool_ ) and he’d never seen it in person beyond Blurr’s stuttering the few times Roddy’d heard him speak.  
  
A strange clicking noise filled his audials. He couldn’t identify it for a moment, then realised -  
  
“C - c - c - c - c - c -”  
  
Blurr was trying to speak.  
  
_\- can’t -_ hit his inbox, the desperate silent cry nearly knocking him over.  
  
“Whoa, hey - you need anything?” Roddy fell to his knees next to Blurr, too busy focusing on someone in need to notice that he didn’t even really mind the heat that much.  
  
_\- stay -_  
  
Roddy understood. He looked around for a blanket before realising that was a stupid idea, then tried to smile as best as he could.  
  
“It’ll be fine,” he said, strangely confident and assured despite everything, despite the part of him that was freaking out, the part of him still convinced Blurr hated him, the fact that Blurr was staring unseeing at the ceiling with glassy optics.  
  
He arranged Blurr into what he hoped was a more comfortable position, not even actually that bothered by the searing metal, then blinked when a blue hand fiercely gripped his own.  
  
Neither of them said anything for the rest of the off-shift, and when Magnus woke them for their on-duty some joors later, he (after scolding them both that they should have reported such an incident) said he was impressed at how well Hot Rod kept calm under pressure.  
  
High praise from Ultra Magnus!  
  
And that wasn’t even the best part.  
  
The best part was when Blurr smiled at him and gently squeezed his hand.


End file.
